Steel and Temper
by Kireteiru
Summary: Soul Mate AU. Everyone is born with their soul mate's name on their wrist. John's not sure what to make of his. What kind of a name is "Cortana?"
1. Steel and Temper

Title: Steel and Temper

Author: Kireteiru

Fandom: Halo

Rating: T

Warnings: language, violence, canonical character death

Pairings: John-117 x Cortana, various

Summary: Everyone is born with their soul mate's name on their wrist. John's not sure what to make of his. What kind of a name is "Cortana?"

A/N: I've been reading too many soul mate AUs lately. That's the only excuse I have for this. Merry Christmas!

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><p>When he was five years old, John looked up his soul mate's name. It was rather unique. Most people had names like Mary or David or Angelo – though he thought he saw a "Sharkeshia" once. He wasn't sure what to make of that, either.<p>

The search engine he used told him that "Cortana" was a different spelling of a word for "short sword," but also the name of one such sword from legend. It bore the inscription "My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durandal," both of whom were also legendary swords. John promptly went running to his mother because he didn't want his soul mate to be a sword! How would that even work!? The sword had been lost for a thousand years it seemed! Maybe he'd be the one to rediscover it?

His mother only laughed. "Your Cortana is probably named _after_ the sword," she said, her teeth glittering as she grinned, "Maybe _her_ mother wanted to give her a special name to help you find each other?"

But the text on his wrist was black, indicating that she had died. When he pointed that out, his mother added, "Or maybe she just hasn't been born yet, John. It run both ways. I'm sure she'll be born soon, and then the color of her name will match her eyes. What color do you think they'll be?"

"Blue!" John said immediately, "No, purple!"

His mother threw her head back and laughed.

* * *

><p>None of the young Spartans were allowed to show the names of their soul mates. The moment they had arrived in the training camp on Reach, they had all been fitted with cloth bands that covered up the colored text on their wrists. It didn't even go in their files. They knew the names, but were no longer allowed to see them or speak them or otherwise acknowledge that they even <em>had<em> soul mates.

But it was unavoidable that they would learn each other's names, and realize that they matched up with the writing and color on their wrists. It was a subtle rebellion, the only one they were allowed. By the time they completed their training, the vast majority of the Spartans had found their soul mates.

But not John.

When the ONI personnel put them under anesthesia for the augmentation procedures, John lost consciousness almost immediately. He dreamed that he was lying at the bottom of a shallow sea, still able to feel the roll and tug of the surf. There was a hand in his, wam, slender, and feminine, but hard like it was made of steel. He squeezed, and she squeezed back. When he woke, he remembered nothing but a feeling of all-encompassing peace.

That peace was enough to keep him going through the long years of the Human-Covenant War. If he had even just a moment of down time, the Master Chief would take a deep breath and let it out slowly, remembering that peace and connection. It got him through every battle, every retreat, every time he couldn't save civilian lives from the ravages of the Covenant.

And then, after almost twenty-five years of warfare, his wrist began to itch. It was shortly after the S-II Program was formally revealed to the public. Blue Team had been recalled to serve as positive examples of the Spartans, and were being redeployed and outfitted with new armor on their way out. John was in his quarters at the time, alone, giving him the moment he needed to slip off the band around his wrist. The name there – "Cortana" – was changing from black to blue mixed with violet, meaning that she had just been born. He slipped the band back on and wondered if he would live to meet her, and what would happen if he did.

* * *

><p>August 29, 2552. 0600 hours.<p>

The Master Chief reported to the main firing range on Reach as ordered, a strange nervousness in his gut. The MPs barely bothered him, double-checking and triple-checking his credentials as he moved further onto the base. The operation to upgrade his neural lace didn't phase him, either, yet the feeling of anticipation grew. It wasn't until he was fully attired I the latest iteration of the MJOLNIR armor that the anxiety plateaued and came under control. He was in his armor. Nothing could touch him.

…except, apparently, his unexpected introduction to his soul mate.

"-I'd like to introduce you to Cortana."

John tensed a little, heart rate rising. An AI? His soul mate was an AI? He listened intently as Dr Halsey explained about the additional enhancements to his armor, including the memory processing layer that enabled him to carry a starship's AI. Cortana was the computer specialist that would be providing the Spartans with live intel on their mission. An AI hadn't occurred to him, because up until then they had no efficient means of toting one around with them.

At the doctor's direction, the Chief knelt to let her slot Cortana's memory matrix into his neural lace (and if that didn't sound like a tech-y version of one of the ODSTs' sex jokes, he didn't know what did). A wave of cold poured into his mind, but it was a good one, like jumping into pool on a hot summer day.

"Not a lot of room in here," said Cortana, "Hello, Master Chief."

How was he supposed to address her? Did she have a rank? He was pretty sure that blurting out, "I think you're my soul mate," would get her reassigned to another Spartan in order to avoid him being emotionally compromised. That wasn't something he was sure he wanted. Finally, he settled on a simple, "Hello, Cortana."

She hummed. "I'm detecting a high degree of cerebral cortex activity. You're not the muscle-bound automatons the press makes you out to be."

"Automaton? Interesting choice of words for an artificial intelligence."

"You must forgive Cortana, Master Chief," said Dr Halsey, "She is somewhat high-spirited. You may have to allow for behavioral quirks."

"Yes, ma'am."

The other Spartans knew that something was up almost before he returned and boarded the _Pillar of Autumn_. They had always been damn near telepathic, and now was no different. After he finished stowing all of his other gear, he sat and began cleaning his weapons one by one. They didn't really need it – he always kept them fresh-from-the-factory pristine – but the familiar motions let him think while appearing too busy to interrupt. It fooled everyone but his siblings.

In a gesture that seemed unintentional to everyone but the Spartans, John brushed his wrist, where the name of his soul mate ran parallel to the vein in his wrist, hidden under the MJOLNIR armor and a strip of black gauze. The others understood without a word, and swiped their fingers across their helmets in their "Spartan smile," congratulating him.

But then Reach was being invaded by the Covenant, and there was no more time to talk. The Chief focused himself completely on his mission to smother the worry he felt for Cortana on the _Pillar of Autumn_. She was a capable AI, and could take care of herself. His team made it to the _Circumference_ and destroyed its navigation database, _and _rescued a squad of Marines from the station, but at a cost: James-005 was lost in orbit after a stray needler round detonated his jetpack, and Linda-058 was declared clinically dead after being hit by multiple overcharged plasma bolts.

The _Pillar of Autumn_ fled Reach for the coordinates Cortana set for them – and found the Covenant waiting for them near a mysterious ringworld known as Halo. Throughout every battle on the installation, John remained focused on his mission, but when he had downtime, he stared at the covered name on his wrist and debated if he should tell Cortana, and how.

And then the Flood emerged from where it had been stored deep inside the ring, overwhelming both Covenant and human defenses and infecting everything it could lay into. It spread, quickly, and kept the Spartan on the defensive the entire time, so much so that he could have wept for joy when the _Pillar of Autumn_'s fusion reactors detonated, taking the ring – and by extension, the Flood – with them.

It wasn't until after he destroyed the _Unyielding Hierophant_ and was bound for Earth that he noticed something… odd. He could feel Cortana even when she was out of his armor, sense her working and moving through the systems of the _Gettysburg_ as she steered them home. With the tight quarters on the ship and virtually no space to speak privately, he dared not mention it to her, or ask if she felt it, too.

But it came in handy, though. When they returned to Earth with their entourage in tow, the two were taken away for separate debriefings. With their strange connection, he could sense her general location and emotional state. It enabled him to track her down later, when they were both assigned to the Cairo Orbital Platform.

"Cortana."

Almost before he was finished speaking, the AI's hologram appeared above the pedestal on the observation deck. "Yes, Chief?"

He took a minute to study her. She was pretty, he supposed, or at least her avatar was. Could lines of code be pretty? To the right people, perhaps. But her appeal to him was in her function – he had never encountered a more useful being in his line of work, someone who completed him. In away, he guessed, he completed her, too. He was the who bore her to places she could not reach on her own, while she was the one who gave him access to intel and strategies he could not do on his own. They completed each other – they really were soulmates.

"Well?"

"If you've got time, could you help me find my soulmate?"

She drew back a little, and some indefinable emotion flickered over her face. It looked like she was angry, or sad, or a bit of both. He smiled internally, and was quietly grateful that the station techs had removed his armor. The Spartan unwrapped the gauze covering his wrist and displayed the text for her to see.

"What do you think?" he asked watching her avatar and the text change color with her emotions, "It should be pretty easy for an AI of your caliber, right? Can you help me?"

Cortana held her own right arm close to her body, the fingers of her left hand curled over the space where he knew his name to be. "Yes," she said, her voice a little choked up, "I'd be glad to help. It'll be done in a snap!" The AI beamed at him, and he smiled back.


	2. Joyeuse and Durandal

Title: Joyeuse and Durandal

Author: Kireteiru

Rating: K+

Fandom: Halo

Pairings: John-117/Cortana

Warnings: canonical character death

A/N: Happy New Year! Also, this just in: I'm now on AO3 under the same name!

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><p>Light. White light, like a star. Falling Lucifer and Icarus, the dying small payment for the ecstasy of freedom.<p>

But then all of his aches and pains began filtering back to him- cracked and broken bones,torn muscles and tendons immobilized and bypassed by his armor. Brutal testament to the ferocity and strength of the Didact and his Prometheans. The weight of his armor settled around him once more, an easy burden to bear after so many years inside it.

'I'm still alive.'

His whole body lit up with agony, but he forced himself to move anyway, getting to his feet. "Cortana." His sixth sense for her, the one that had cause him so many problems when she was being tortured by the Gravemind, couldn't detect her anywhere. "Cortana, do you read?" Her rampancy and countless copies had screwed with their connection, but he had always been able to feel her…! "Cortana,come in,"he begged, praying to someone, anyone –

A sky blue glow at his back. He turned.

It was her. It was _her_, his guardian and his charge, his shieldsister and his soulmate. Never before had he been so happy to see her, never before had she looked more radiant. She walked slowly toward him across a floor of hard light. "How…?" He let the question hang in the air, a precursor to a thousand endings. How was this possible? How had she survived the destruction of the _Approach_? How had she generated a hard light barrier so close to a manual nuclear detonation and prevented him from being harmed? How were they getting home so he could keep his promise?

"Oh, I'm the strangest thing you've seen all day?" She was smiling, but there was sorrow in her eyes.

"But if we're here…"

"It worked," she said, "You did it, just like you always do."

He accepted that, then looked up at the barrier."So how do we get out of here?" There were no visible exits.

Cortana looked down at her feet, then met his gaze once more. "I'm not coming with you this time."

_NO_

His body flinched at the force of his own denial. "What?" His tone was uncomprehending. 'No, no, no, not her, anyone but her…'

She tilted her head toward the remains of the _Approach_. "Most of me is down there. I only held enough back to get you off the ship."

"No." This time he verbalized the thought. "That's not – we go together." He didn't leave room for argument. It couldn't be true. It had to be a nightmare – was this Hell?

"It's already done."

That didn't mean he had to accept it. "I am _not_ leaving you here."

"John…" Cortana crossed the remaining distance between them in a single smooth stride. Her hand rose,touched his chest plate, and she let out a shuddering sigh. "I've waited so long to do that."

"It was my job to take care of you." 'I failed you,' went unspoken, but was heard anyway, so clearly he might as well have shouted it. The Chief couldn't meet her eyes. 'I should have done more to help stop your rampancy, shouldn't have let this be your only way to peace. I should have just killed the Didact, and damned the consequences.'

"We were supposed to take care of each other," she corrected gently, "And we did."

The Spartan looked back up at her. He could feel the stinging in his eyes. How long had it been since he had cried? He couldn't remember. "Cortana, please…" John could feel the prickling in his wrist, knew the color was beginning to turn black.

The AI (and yet so much more than just that) smiled sadly. She touched his chest plate one last time, then dropped her right hand to his own. He gripped her forearm as she did his in the traditional hand-fastening position, the one that pressed the soulmate names on their wrists together. A shaky breath escaped her, like she was on the verge of tears, before she pulled free of his grasp and began to back away.

"Wait-" He took a step after her, but she was already beginning to fade.

_"Welcome home, John."_

* * *

><p>John wasn't sure how long he drifted, mink blank, in the remains of the <em>Mantle's Approach<em>. He only became aware of his surroundings when a spotlight shone down on him, drawing him out of his near-catatonic state. He slowly turned his head to look up into the light.

"Infinity _actual? Pelican Nine-Sixer. We found him_."

The troop carrier's hold opened up, the ship slowly moving close enough for him to grab onto it and pull himself inside. The artificial gravity took hold, and he got to his feet without a word. One of the Marines on board to the rest of his gear from him while two more supported him to one of the side seats. He strapped himself in, but barely felt the Pelican's acceleration as it turned toward the _Infinity_.

There were Spartan-IVs and Marines waiting in formation in the bay where the Pelican docked with the ship. They saluted him as he descended the ramp – a hero's welcome he hardly thought he deserved.

HIGHCOM was still in disarray because of the assault on Earth, so he had no orders to report anywhere. He used the opportunity to slip away and hid on the observation deck, looking out over the green and blue planet. The _Infinity_'s AI, Roland, had to know where he was. As fore the rest of the crew, he wasn't sure if they were just giving him space or if they genuinely had somewhere else to be. Either way, he was grateful for the moment of quiet, the time to grieve.

But of course, it was too good to last. There were footsteps behind him, followed by a voice. "Mind if I join you?"

Lasky. John straightened respectfully and turned slightly to look at the officer. "Of course not, sir."

One corner of the other man's lips quirked up in sardonic amusement. "At ease, Chief," he said, walking closer, "Feels kinda odd for you to call me 'sir.'" Both of them gazed out at Earth.

John had had people close to him sacrifice themselves to defend Earth and humanity before, but never to defend _him_. He returned his attention to Lasky when he realized the man was speaking. Cortana had always been able to grab his attention right away.

"Chief," said the officer, "I won't pretend to know how you feel. I've lost people before, but…" He seemed unsure how to put it. "… never anything like what you're going through."

"Our duty," he said quietly, "as soldiers is to protect humanity, whatever the cost." It was more of an automatic response than an actual thought.

"You say that, like soldiers and humanity are two different things. Soldiers aren't machines. We're just people." John glanced at him but did not otherwise respond. "I'll let you have the deck to yourself."

As he walked away, the Spartan murmured to himself, "She said that to me once. About being a machine." Then, without turning around, "Commander?"

"Yes, Chief?"

"That girl who died on Circinius IV, the one hit by the needle round while we were in the Warthog."

"Chyler? What about her?"

He inhaled slowly, then asked, "Was she your soulmate?" He watched the man's reflection in the window, saw the confusion, then the dawning realization, followed by sympathy and shared pain.

"Yes," said Lasky, "She was."

John nodded slightly. "Do you miss her?"

"Every moment."

* * *

><p>Four weeks later, the Chief was summoned by one of ONI's tech divisions. It was all very hush-hush, making him almost positive that they were planning on pairing him with another AI, one that he was very positive he would refuse.<p>

Until he walked into the lab.

There were _two_ AI standing atop one of the tech's desks. One was female, cobalt in color with long curly hair, and wore a rendering of a naval tech's standard uniform. The other was male, grass green with close cropped hair, wearing the Mark VI variant of the MJOLNIR armor with the helmet tucked under his arm. Both of them turned to look at him when he entered the room.

John shot a glance at the head tech, then looked back at the AIs. The female nearly skipped to the edge of the desk and said, "Hello, Father."

The Spartan's eyebrows shot up and he distinctly straightened, a perfectly normal reaction despite the amused looks of the scientists.

"I am Joyeuse," said the female AI, "and this is my twin." She looked back at the other AI, who took that as his cue to approach and speak.

"My name is Durandal," he said, coming to a stop next to his twin at a far more calm pace.

A memory resurfaced in John's mind, the circumstances around it blurred by time, but the words were still clear. "'I am Cortana,'" he quoted, "'of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Durandal.'"

Joyeuse beamed at him, and he recognized echoes of Cortana's own smile in her. Durandal had more of the Spartan's style of expression – a turning up of one corner of his lips and a softening of his stance rather than a full blown smile. "Yep," he said, "'cept this time it's the other way around."

Their avatars, voices, and demeanors were each a mixture of Cortana's and John's, yet at the same time, they were also entirely their own people. Cortana was gone, but it seemed that she had created a contingency plan, in case she shut down while they were still adrift. She had _made_ the kernels of two new AI to support the Spartan after she was gone, the only "children" the two of them would ever have.

The Chief approached the table and knelt to put himself on a more equal level with them, removing his helmet as he did so. "My name is John," he said, "and I'm looking forward to working with you both."

Joyeuse's smile grew even wider. Durandal actually cracked a grin, and John finally allowed himself a small smile of his own.


End file.
